The Grave Mistake

Sirius Learns A New Saying

Sirius Black stared at the muggles in confusion as they tried to play with the squib. It was quite odd. The way they threw balloons filled with water at each other and then laughed. Of course Sirius was no stranger to fun but it seemed a bit painful, considering the squib was glaring at them whenever he was hit.

Shrugging slightly he leaned in closer, making sure to make no noise. Who knows what these muggles would do if they found him sitting in the bushes watching them.

"Hey, Weasley! Come play with us! Don't be a-stick-in-the-mud!" One of the muggle boys said to the squib as he threw another balloon.

"I'm not a stick-in-the-mud! I'm just not in the mood! My parents just kicked me out!" The Weasley glared at them. Sirius had no idea how he didn't guess earlier that the squib was a Weasley, he had red hair and freckles, plus he had second-hand clothes, a sure sign of a Weasley.

"Oh." The muggle girl looked at him skeptically. "But you're only 11, it's illegal. You should go to the police."

The Weasley shook his head. "Nahh it's fine. I have some friends I'll be staying with, maybe you can come over some time." The muggles shrugged but agreed reluctantly and they all left together.

Sirius wondered what a stick-in-the-mud was as he got out of the bush and brushed out some leaves. Was it a squib who hangs out with muggles, he mused silently. Since they used sticks, well wands but they were just sticks, for magic and a squib couldn't use magic, it would make sense, plus many purebloods through that muggles were no more than mud....yah that was probably it.

Sirius, his brother Regulus and their parents were all having dinner when an uncomfortable topic arose. It was all Sirius's fault, if he was honest with himself, but he just couldn't help himself.

"I heard the Weasley's son is a stick-in-the-mud." Sirius said as he brought some potatoes to his mouth.

Five year old Regulus started choking on something as their father asked. "What do you mean, Sirius?"

"Well I saw him playing with muggles and he is a squib, so he is a stick-in-the-mud." Sirius said as he took a gulp of pumpkin juice from his cup.

Regulus started choking harder and fell from the chair, looking slightly blue in the face. Walburga, their mother, quickly called Kreacher.

"What can Kreacher do for the great Lady Black?" He droned with half lidded eyes.

"He's dying, you stupid elf, help him!" Walburga screeched as she pointed to an almost purple Regulus.

"Yes, great Lady Black, Kreacher will do anything to help young Master." Kreacher snapped his finger and Regulus started gasping for air.

"You are dismissed, elf." Their mother said as she stood from her chair and went to comfort the little Regulus who was still gasping for air but looking a lot less purple.

"Regulus, sweetie, what happened? Is everything alright?" Sirius and his father both shared a look as Walburga asked Regulus in a sweet, quiet voice.

Regulus nodded slowly,"Yes...I just...it was too funny, his interpretation." He rasped out, his throat raw.

Their mother suddenly glared at Sirius. "You will not use those words anymore, do you understand?!?" She screeched and Sirius nodded his head; his mind still whirling in confusion, what was so funny about being a squib?